The Age of Discontent
by SecretWindow
Summary: Draco and Blaise have been together and teaching at Hogwarts for years after the war. Harry comes to Hogwarts after years of solitude and accidentally makes waves.
1. Draco's Obsessions

**Love them but don't own them. **

**Thanks so much for bearing with me while I diddle around and indulge my artsy tendencies. **

_Three's Company:__ Draco's Obsessions_

Draco sighed mournfully as he lifted his hand through the clear water of the large bath tub, in Draco's private rooms, watching the liquid trickle through his long pale fingers. When his frustration reached a level that he deemed impossible to ignore he leaned over the edge of the tub, sloshing water everywhere, and gave Blaise the look. The one that always got him attention, his cutest pout.

Blaise looked up from his writing and gave Draco an exasperated sigh before heaving himself up from the computer chair and following that pouting gaze into the bathroom.

"Draco, you know I have to finish this draft. My editor needs it by Tuesday for revision." Blaise muttered, rolling up the sleeves of his dark blue sweater and placing his glasses on the sink. The young man got to his knees next to the enormous basin in their private chambers. Teaching at the oldest school in history had its perks.

Draco turned his back to Blaise and brushed aside the long blond locks that people had come to identify with the Malfoy family. Blaise slowly began massaging the tense muscles beneath the pale supple skin, digging his thumbs into the muscles until his fingers found purchase on a knot in one of Draco's particularly worrisome places.

The blond let loose a large sigh and his head drooped automatically, baring more area for Blaise's gentle hands to explore.

"Tell me, what's got you so wound up." The Italian inquired softly, in that quiet unobtrusive voice that always made Draco open up and spill the mushy inner feelings that he would never dream of telling anyone else. Draco bit his lip and gave a slight disgruntled sigh.

"It's the same as always… That damn Potter." Draco grumbled out from beneath his curtain of hair, slightly embarrassed. This wasn't the first time this had come up, they had talked about him on rare occasions when the Malfoy heir had become unbearable in his musings and Blaise coerced him into spilling with that soft voice open to anything the smaller man might throw at him.

"What is it this time?" Blaise asked, carefully keeping away any hint of exasperation or jealousy. Draco couldn't help but bury his head in the crook of his arm to hide his pink flushed cheeks.

"He's coming here to work as a teacher!" Draco moaned unhappily, angry with himself for caring. Blaise didn't respond immediately and simply continued knead the flesh beneath his fingers.

"Draco, I think you are being a bit melodramatic love. I know how you feel about him but honestly it will be okay." Blaise soothed gently, finishing his massage with a slight tousle of Draco's long blond locks. The Malfoy heir glared unhappily at him and dunked his head underwater to erase the tangles.

"I don't think you understand Blaise, we can't be in the same building together without it becoming a war zone! It just doesn't work!" Draco moaned quietly, not wanting to try his partner's patience. Blaise donned his reading glasses again and returned to the glowing computer screen.

"Draco, there are times when one must step into his big boy pants and start acting like he isn't a spoiled child. I thought you were past that when your father died." Blaise sniped in his disturbingly soft voice. Draco sometimes thought that one softly spoken comment from Blaise was more stinging than an entire tirade of screams from anyone else.

For a few moments all that could be heard was the quiet tap tap of the keys on Blaise's laptop before he sighed heavily and turned to his lover.

"Draco, I promise things will be okay." He said, the tenderness for the blond apparent in his tone. Draco sank down into the tub so that only his blond hair and grey eyes were visible and blurbled out a response.

"I hope your right…"

"Mister potter, I'm very glad you have decided to return to Hogwarts, it's wonderful that you can return to us in a teaching capacity." McGonagall said stated from behind the large headmaster's desk as she shuffled his paperwork as she spoke.

"Thank you headmistress." Harry said smiling gently and toying with the fraying sleeve of his old robes.

"I don't know what I would be doing without this job." He said quietly, retaining a small smile of appreciation. McGonagall paused and looked up, losing the professional air she held most times.

"Of course Mister Potter, you know you are always welcome at Hogwarts, it's what Professor Dumbledore would have wanted." She said quietly, removing those half moon spectacles that she wore so often nowadays. Harry flinched almost unnoticeably at the mention of the previous headmaster and the smile slid from his face.

"Thank you Headmistress." Harry muttered shortly, obviously uncomfortable with the line of conversation.

"Um… Could I get to my rooms soon? I'd really like to settle down and get some rest." He said, shifting his weight uncomfortably. McGonagall seemed to understand and quickly summoned a house elf to show him to his private rooms. To Harry's despair one of Dobby's kin popped into existence almost immediately and he could practically track the recognition that turned to excitement that settled into a kind of dopy adoration.

"Master Harry Potter Sir! Winky is so very honored to serve you!" She proclaimed, big yellow eyes watering up as she bowed low enough so that her long hooked nose brushed the stone floor.

"Please, just Harry… um… my room?" Harry prodded gently, ignoring the behavior for the most part and trying very hard to act normal.

"Oh yes Mister Potter sir, the teacher's rooms are very much like the room of requirement sir. Think of what you want most and that will be your room." Winky recited happily, looking at McGonagall for confirmation. Apparently Winky welcomed all of the new teachers and knew the rules quite well.

Winky took Harry's hand and pulled him along the winding halls, causing him to have to stoop low to keep from lifting the little elf up from the ground and this is the way that Draco and Blaise found him.

Harry looked up and his breath caught a bit in his chest. They were perfectly … together. Both were stopped mid-step on the same foot, matching looks of measured surprise, hands interlaced in a heartbreakingly intimate yet subtle position. Well, heartbreaking to Harry who lacked most normal human connections.

Harry quickly recovered and his occlumency shields slammed into place, heavier than a steel wall. He straightened up and brushed the stray hairs that had fallen into his face behind his ears before taking a deep breath and looking up.

"Malfoy, Zabini, what a surprise seeing you here." Harry said in a polite tone, those green eyes seemed frozen in time as they observed the two men. Harry regretted his petite frame and short stature intensely as time as two pairs of opposite eyes looked down to study him. Silver and obsidian orbs held matching looks of interest and finally it was Draco who spoke.

"Potter, decided to give the teaching a go eh? I wouldn't be too sure about this line of work for you, I always pegged you for the 'risk my life for other people and catch dark wizards' type. The auror type." Draco said, clearly feeling defensive of his own position in the field and not liking Harry's presence in what he felt was his home. Harry looked decidedly ill for a moment before shooting them a weak smile.

"I decided against that line of work." He ground out between clenched teeth. Blaise's hand inconspicuously tightened on Draco's, indicating that he should stop.

"Well Mister Potter, it's been an interesting reunion. We will see you in the great hall. It is almost dinner time." Blaise said solidly, moving his hand to the small of Draco's back to guide him to the great hall. Harry watched, eyes riveted to that hand and the gentle pressure it exerted until he was shaken by a hand pulling on his sleeve.

"Mister Harry Potter Sir, this is the portrait to the teacher's common room. All of the rooms branch off on their own halls and are full sized suites. The password is _atrum pardus_ your own room is through the hallway to the right once you are in the common room, the magic will bind to your signature and you must decide upon a portrait to guard your room." Winky informed him helpfully.

Harry nodded and spoke the password, surveying the large black panther napping on a tree limb in the portrait, slipping in and sealing the passage before Winky could work out a way to wrangle more time with "Mister Harry Potter Sir".

Harry heaved a sigh of relief and drug himself down the short hallway to the teacher commons and was surprised by what he found. The rooms were tastefully decorated in relaxing if nondescript colors. Harry smiled gently, maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all, however the Slytherins teaching at Hogwarts seemed intent on ruining his hopes for the future.

Harry continued following the directions from Winky until he ended up in front of a portrait of an enormous albino python that swiveled it's head around at him and inspected him with its intelligent pink eyes.

"_Hello, I'm Harry Potter. It's a privilege to meet you_." Harry hissed out quietly, inconspicuously in case a fellow faculty member happened by. The snake twitched with what Harry supposed was surprise.

"_Hello speaker, I hope you will be staying in these rooms, nobody quite so interesting has been here in many years. I will meet you in the main room at your convenience_." The great huge snake hissed disinterestedly, obviously the snake's attitude would work to Harry's advantage. He had become a private soul who enjoyed a lack of outside interference, especially after the war.

Harry couldn't help but be taken slightly aback by the room. It was beautiful, elegant but dark, dark enough to be soothing to the eyes but not dark enough to be frightening or resemble anything like what he imagined Snape's personal chambers to look like.

Apparently after the war the older man had become a private researcher for the sake of expanding wizarding knowledge. He lived somewhere in the middle of the forest in Tibet, far from civilization where he, by Harry's opinion belonged.

Harry walked into the bedroom from the spacious reception room and sat gingerly on the bed, unused to such rich surroundings, a far cry from the dank aura of Grimwald Place. Thankfully the wallpaper stayed fully intact in this room as it had not in his room at home, though he hadn't been in a fit state to notice at the time.

Harry shook his head as if to clear it of unsavory memories before brandishing his wand and setting the things from his trunk to dancing about the room and setting themselves as he liked them.

When he was done he looked about and gave a small grin before walking back into the main room and sitting on one of the large couches provided apparently by his subconscious. Well it had good taste anyway.

The snake had migrated to a portrait of a comfortable looking chair and was currently layed out on the high back of it, pink eyes trained on Harry with unusual intensity.

"_You are the slayer of the snake man correct?"_ The snake stated more than asked as he settled on the chair back.

"_If you speak of the man called Voldemort then yes." _Harry hissed tightly, uncomfortable with the conversation but the snake didn't seem to care. Its eyes took in his obviously defensive body language and seemed to disregard it completely.

"_And are you powerful?"_ The snake inquired again, quickly and coldly.

"_Yes." _Harry muttered unhappily.

"_Then I will be your gatekeeper. Simply inform me of who to allow entrance and who should be denied."_ The snake hissed and slithered out of frame. Harry was left blinking at the very strange and swift interaction. Perhaps snakes just didn't have a use for courtesy.

Harry was roused from his musings by a soft chiming noise from his watch signaling that it was dinner time. Harry didn't feel hungry at all but still pulled himself from his seat and headed toward the great hall. His feet took him as his mind drifted.

His legs would forever know these halls unquestionably, instinctually skipping the missing step and the one that made an obnoxious screaming noise when stepped upon. It was his home completely and irrefutably . Harry was drawn from his thoughts by the sight of the enormous doors to the great hall.

He dreaded the attention sure to be drawn by entering through those doors but it was the only entrance he knew. The staring eyes and the gaping jaws all because of a scar he did his best to hide. It seemed a bit unnecessary and highly irritating to Harry. Well nothing for it, simply have to grit his teeth and bear it.

Harry was disheartened by the amount of effort it took to open the large doors but slipped through the crack he made and tried to slip through unnoticed. Unfortunately with a hushing of the crowd and a great rustling of robes all heads turned to face him, and then the whispering started, almost deafening when so many people did it.

He frowned unhappily and shook the fringe hanging over his face to cover the scar everyone was so fixated on. Harry became painfully aware of the slight limp in his left leg as the students tracked his uneven progress across the hall to the teacher's table.

McGonagall stood and shook his hand, smiling and offering him the seat to her right. Harry settled down just as the first course disappeared and a floating platter piled high with delicious looking chicken. Finally the whispering died down and the students return to eating sparing only a few glances for Harry between bites.

Harry kept his eyes downcast and directed on the food that he didn't really eat, the sickly feeling in his stomach just wouldn't go away. Draco snuck a glance at Harry and turned to talk to Blaise in the way that purebloods did when they wanted to be private, heads bowed, and lips hardly moving.

"Blaise did you see that limp? What happened there?" He muttered, taking a delicate bite of his chicken and chewing it over thoughtfully. Blaise put his hand on Draco's knee, a warning that he was staring too much.

"Draco, it's not our business unless you are ready to make an honest go at this." He responded, stroking the pale boy's knee with his thumb through the fabric to offset the cruel honesty of his words.

"But you must be curious Blaise, this is Harry Potter." Draco muttered, his grey eyes glinting with a passionate curiosity that Blaise was only ever privy to during adventurous sex or during their rare conversations about the man currently in question.

Blaise frowned unhappily, those thoughts wouldn't get them anywhere at the moment, during dinner. Draco seemed to sense Blaise's wandering thoughts and huffed in irritation, setting his hand over the Italian's larger appendage on his knee and inclining his head slightly closer.

"Blaise, we'll have time for that later. I am honestly curious about Potter, he fell off the map for three years after the defeat of … you know who… where did he go? What happened to him to make him like this?" Draco pondered aloud. He had gripped his arm at the mention of the Dark Lord, which still made his mark sting.

Draco looked at Potter's tense shoulders and the way he seemed to move his food about but not really eat anything. It was maddening; Draco was never one who could deal well with secrets.

Harry glanced up to accidently meet Draco's curious grey eyes and had to fight valiantly to keep the rising blush from coloring his cheeks until he could afford to look away. That face had been lined with curiosity and what seemed like a touch of concern, it was confusing, why would Malfoy feel concern for him or curiosity in relation to him.

Soon enough students started to trickle out of the hall with full bellies and drowsy heads. Harry deemed this an appropriate time to take his leave and organize for his first class tomorrow. Defense Against the Dark Arts was a subject that needed preparation or someone could get hurt.

Harry stood after vanishing his untouched food with an inconspicuous flick of his wand concealed within his sleeve.

"Excuse me Headmistress, I'll be turning in a bit early, I've still got some planning to do." Harry said in that polite emotionless tone.

Harry turned on his heel and left for his rooms, thinking deeply about the look on Malfoy's face.

Draco watched Harry leave the main hall, his hunched shoulders and slightly limping gait. He turned to Blaise again with questions in his eyes and it was Blaise who took Draco's elbow, and lead him to stand, ready to get on with it and eager from the looks Draco had been shooting him.

Draco sighed gently as Blaise all but dragged them out of the main hall and back to their rooms for a bit of less than school appropriate activities.

Harry sat on the bed, massaging his thigh, sore from the travel. The large divot cut out of his leg muscle pained him more the longer he had it, it was degenerative and would one day reduce him to a wheel chair. Harry frowned unhappily at the thought and downed his cocktail of potions that kept him mobile, including a dreamless sleep potion and a general nutrition potion. Harry instantly felt the nausea and the hot coal in the stomach feeling.

It had become familiar to him and he had almost become able to ignore the feeling when trying to sleep, and only about once a week did he vomit these days. Harry sighed uncomfortably and put a hand to his quivery stomach before heaving his useless leg into the bed and curling onto his side for some not so restful sleep.

Blaise rolled to the side, chest heaving and muscles weak. Draco curled into him, half laying on him and smiled. Blaise was the physical type, he required constant physical reassurance and if that was provided he was a very relaxed lover and not jealous at all but if he was denied those secret touches and gentle hand holds he became uneasy and it resulted in situations like this one.

Rough, but never painful sex, it was like a friendly reminder that Blaise didn't appreciate being forgotten. Draco smiled gently, not minding the strong tingle in his lower regions and placed a silent kiss on Blaise's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Draco, you know that something must be done about this. I love you but something must be done about this." Blaise said softly, his warm breath causing Draco's hair to float for a moment before returning to rest.

"I know Blaise… I know…" Draco muttered unhappily, not proud to be going to sleep with this unresolved.


	2. Harry's Unwanted Unveiling

**Love them but don't own them. **

**Thanks so much for bearing with me while I diddle around and indulge my artsy tendencies. **

_The Age of Discontent: __Harry's Unwanted Unveiling_

Harry awoke from an uneasy sleep feeling like he had been doused in cold water. He became aware of an ache in his stomach that pervaded his senses even before he was fully awake. Swinging his bad leg out of bed Harry sat on the edge of the plush surface and downed his potions, planning on skipping breakfast to make up for turning in early the previous night.

As he went to stand, Harry realized that today was going to be a bad day and he reached for the smooth black cane he kept for these unfortunate occasions. Harry leaned heavily on the cane as he stood and hobbled to his desk and sat to plan his lessons.

He pulled out his wand and decided to start with basic shield charms. Better to know how to defend than attack. Harry found that out the hard way when he gained the rather nasty scars on his chest. Flashes of an angry orange light invaded his mind's eye for a moment before he rubbed his hand across his chest and once again thanking the gods for his life.

Harry flicked through the Advanced Defensive Magic book that he was basing his teachings on and found the chapter on shield charms. He looked through it briefly and decided that his first class was a good time to assess strengths and weaknesses through the shield charms.

Harry stood slowly, still leaning heavily on the cane and started about the slow going of dressing. Harry ran his fingers through his unkempt mane and set off hobbling down the hallway, shame burning through him at every look of pity he met. Harry responded to the looks with a patient outward smile and nod, not wanting his condition to affect his standing as a teacher.

Harry tended to weigh his actions against the thought of what Remus would have done. His role model was generally the kind of person he liked to think himself to be, kind, accepting, a generally gentle person.

Harry frowned unhappily at the burning sensation in his stomach but chalked it up to nerves caused by his first class. A year spent alone with nobody but an owl to talk to made one question one's social graces.

He continued his way down to the room next to the large stone gargoyle that marked his room. He entered the classroom and looked around at all the dusty desks and leftover books from last year. Harry banished the dust and renewed the books with a wave of his hand, after having such a huge influx of power when he killed the Dark lord it was rather cumbersome and unnecessary to use a wand, it restricted his power. He still used a wand so as to keep from frightening other wizards who might not be used to such displays.

Harry forced a smile to his lips as the first few students trickled in and he witnessed the reactions he was to receive all day. The wide eyes, the whispers, a small dark haired girl with a mousy look about her even had the will to ask him aloud.

"Do we call you Professor Potter or Harry Potter?" Harry had forced that smile and simply replied with the appropriate answer.

"You may call me Professor Potter, Madison." Harry said mildly, putting the slightest bit of emphasis on her name. He made sure to always remember their names, every single one, he never wanted them to feel like nobody noticed them. He never wanted anyone to feel like he had.

Harry shook his head and flicked his want at the chalkboard. Instructions for the most basic of shield charms scrawled themselves out in neat lines that Harry's own hand could never manage.

"Read that chapter in your book and when you've finished just take out your wand and look up. We are going to have a bit of practice." Harry said in his most authoritative and teacher-like voice.

With a chorus of groans and the slamming of textbooks on desks the kids slowly began to obey the words and disregard their teacher's prominent limp and cane. Harry hobbled over to the desk and propped up the cane, plopping heavily in the padded chair and massaging his thigh.

Harry's thoughts immediately turned to the very strange interaction with Draco and Blaise, both of them were absolutely opaque. Incredible enigmas that intrigued him a bit while at the same time frightening the absolute piss out of the portion of him that was emotionally dead.

Harry liked to pretend that all of his emotions were inside of a pretty little box that was burned along with Voldemort. All that was left of that box was a burnt up old husk.

Harry could feel that vacant expression take over his face, the one that he got when he got in too deep in an emotional situation. That expression got him out of many a deep hole.

Harry was startled out of his musings by the gentle well-placed cough from the girl called Madison. The first few kids were starting to look up, gripping their wands with an eagerness he himself well remembered.

Harry stood slowly, with the help of his cane, and leaned on the edge of the desk, waiting patiently for all of the eager hands to reach for those wands. When every student had a wand in hand Harry stood and brandished his own.

Harry meant to cast the simple shield charm that he had planned for the day, he really did. He put his wand through the motions and forced that nervous energy into it and… it exploded, into a shower of sparks and splinters of wood. There were a few beats of silence.

"Damn…" Harry grumbled unhappily to himself. This was a very not good first day. Very not good indeed.

Thinking on his feet Harry glanced at the student's stunned expression and decided to throw caution to the wind. Harry brought up his right hand and performed the spell nonverbally. When a shimmering wall appeared between him and the class he ignored their stunned look.

Harry braced himself and let that empty grin take over his face, his easy mask for the world to see.

"This, class, is a protego charm. Can anybody tell me its function?" Harry asked sharply when he noticed that they were still staring wide eyed at the thick shimmering shield. Instantly a hand shot up and that hand belonged to a slytherin girl with dark black hair and sharp blue eyes.

"Yes ?" Harry asked gently, smiling.

"The protego charm is a spell that protects the caster." The girl answered clippedly, eyes still locked on the thick barrier.

"Yes, very good. That is a shield charm, it repels most magical attacks but can easily be passed through with physical objects. This is the most basic of shield charms. Can anybody name the most advanced?" Harry asked again, encouraging new hands and new people to speak up. He waited until one of the quieter children hesitantly raised a hand.

"Yes you in the back row. Ms. Owens I believe, correct?" Harry asked, making sure he had her name right.

"Yes sir, Owens is right. Um, is it… the Numerus Contego sir?" She inquired quietly, her voice shaking.

"Yes. Quite right. Numerus Contego is essentially a complete defense. It is incredibly hard to manage and drains an unseemly amount of magic. I decided to teach you shield charms first because in your arsenal, they are the most important. I would rather know that you can defend yourself than cause harm to another." Harry said, speaking with his hands to get his point across. A hand shot up in Harry's peripheral vision.

"Yes Ms. Delamare." Harry said with a gentle smile. Those blue eyes focused on him with an almost snotty and disbelieving air.

"You're saying that you would rather know basic shield charms in battle than the killing curse?" She asked incredulously.

"Absolutely." Harry answered surely and pushed his glasses a bit up his nose.

"That's not what my mum says." The girl muttered under her breath. Without breaking stride or acknowledging that she had spoken Harry shot a sharp comment over his shoulder. "Detention Ms. Delamare." Harry threw out in his politely short way.

Classes continued this way, students testing boundaries and Harry giving detentions. As the day drew to a close Harry couldn't help but notice the fiery feeling burning a hole in his stomach. It grew progressively worse until he sat at dinner at the teacher's table and picked at the food on his plate.

When the feeling grew out of his control Harry stood, hand on his stomach and limped out of the hall in a way that was quiet and beyond most people's observational skills. Harry hurried to the teacher's rooms and through the passage to his own room. With shaking hands Harry grabbed a nutrient potion and could hardly open the cork. Somehow he managed and swallowed the whole thing in one gulp. The burning soothed.

Harry panted gently as the pain abated in waves. He felt better as the potion sloshed around in his empty stomach and ended the hurt. He sat for a moment, taking a few breaths and steadying himself before standing, leaning heavily on his cane and limped up to the medical wing. Generally he didn't like voluntarily going there but this was becoming a bit unreasonable.

Harry's uneven steps and the click of his cane on stone echoed in the empty halls, making him feel even more nervous. Harry didn't like doctors or the magical equivalent, probably had something to do with some remembrance of his childhood.

He quickened his pace and finally found the large double doors leading into the hospital wing, taking a gulp he pushed them open and entered slowly.

A dark curly haired head looked up sharply from the cabinet it was busy organizing. It was Blaise Zabini, Harry could feel his magic stir uneasily, recognizing the man's magical signature as one he had marked with disdain in the past.

"Oh, Mister Potter, fancy seeing you here. Shouldn't you be at dinner?" Blaise asked gently in his soft way.

"Actually I've just come from there. I've been having some stomach issues, I was wondering if you could help me." Harry said tersely, shifting his weight more onto his good leg. Dark eyes flicked down to his leg and back to his face in a fraction of a second.

"Sit, please, you look like you're about to fall out." Blaise said motioning to the pristine hospital cot. Harry grudgingly sat and laid his cane over his knees, uncomfortable with the close scrutiny the Italian seemed intent on putting him under.

"Now, tell me what's wrong. I might be able to help." He said, closing the cabinet and seating himself in the chair next to the bed.

"Never would have pegged you for a healer Zabini… My stomach, it hurts like there is a coal in my belly. Quite the irritant." Harry relayed, bringing a hand to his stomach. Blaise watched this too and those eyes narrowed.

"I've noticed that you don't eat much Harry, May I call you Harry?" Blaise asked politely, using that naturally warm trust me smile.

"Yes, I see no reason for formalities. No I don't eat much, never seem to have time but I assure you that I don't hunger." Harry assured the man who sat with his fingers steepled and his eyes keen with interest.

"Why would you say that Harry? Eating is an important part of life, besides the finer foods are much easier on the stomach I assure you." Blaise pointed out, not really sure where this meeting was going.

"Trust me. I don't really need it. I use food substitutes." Harry explained patiently, as if he was dealing with a student.

"Harry, do you by chance use nutritional potions?" Blaise asked slowly, not sure he wanted the answer.

"Yes but, I must, I haven't the time to be stuffing my face now have I? I got in the habit of using them on the mission…" Harry's eyes glazed over a bit and his face became lined with a deep sadness. Blaise catalogued this for discussion with Draco at a later time.

"Harry do you mind if I do a wellness scan on you?" Blaise asked unobtrusively, making it seem like a trifle, like something routine. In all actuality it was a full work up of the patient's health, down to their very first paper cut.

"Um… I want your word that this will only tell you of the ails of my stomach." Harry stated, giving the healer a sharp look. Blaise did his best to look affronted, apparently Harry hadn't forgotten that he was put in slytherin for very good reason. His disarming manner made him easy to trust but many forgot about the quick mind beneath the soft face.

"Of course Harry, your privacy is of the utmost importance." Blaise muttered, with the intent of doing the full scan anyway. He whipped out his wand and muttered a charm in Latin, a bluish light spewing forth from his wand and running over Harry. A disconcertingly long roll of parchment popped into Blaise's hands, he skipped to the most pressing of the issues, namely the enormous ulcer in Potter's midsection.

Those dark eyebrows furrowed in concern. "You know that nutritional potions are only to be used in dire circumstances and as diet suppliments, they are dangerous. These potions cause ulcers, mighty painful and mighty dangerous, and you've got one that's taken up residence in your belly. We'll have to wean you off the potion. You'll need to stay in the hospital wing for at least two weeks, if that goes well we'll start you on treatment charms." Blaise summarized grimly. Harry's face darkened unhappily.

"I've got to teach and I've got detentions to supervise." Harry protested weakly, already resigned to his hospital time, healers could rarely be reasoned with.

"I'm sure the Headmistress will understand." Blaise established firmly.

"Topsy will bring you a bowl of broth. You are required to drink as much as you can without losing your stomach. No more nutritional potions until I give the okay." Blaise laid down the rules mercilessly, no patient of his was going to ruin his reputation with self sabotage.

Blaise tucked the parchment into his pocket and pushed Harry, gently with a hand on the small of his back, to one of the white hospital cots. As this was happening Blaise waved his wand and replaced Harry's clothes with a white hospital gown. Harry grunted in embarrassment and covered his behind with his hands before scurrying into the bed as quickly as his limp would allow it.

All of this was observed by those sharp brown eyes that saw so much. Blaise fingered the roll of parchment in the back pocket of his medical robes and frowned deeply. Blaise set up Harry with his warming charm, the hospital wing got quite chilly at night, and a small house elf with instructions to bring him anything he may need with the exception of the potion that caused his situation.

Harry was displeased. Blaise did not care. As Blaise walked out of the hospital wing fully intent to carefully read over the entire report that was burning a hole in his back pocket, he knew that they would never be rid of that damn Potter.

Blaise walked quickly, the footfalls of his expensive Italian made shoes could easily be heard with the resounding echo they caused in the empty hall. Blaise hurried back to the teacher's rooms and into the room that Draco and he shared.

"Draco, I believe you are going to want to hear about my day." Blaise grumbled as he stripped off his healer's robes and toed off the expensive shoes to relax in the simple scrubs he wore under his robes.

"Blaise, what have I told you about leaving your clothes about?" Draco grumbled, disgruntled at Blaise as he came around the corner from their bedroom in only his sleep pants. It seemed he had retired early to catch up on his beauty rest if his rumpled clothing and displaced hair were anything to judge by.

Draco padded over on bare feet, sitting on the couch and curling his legs underneath him, managing to at the same time burrow his ice cold toes under Blaise's leg. Blaise worked the parchment from his pocket and set it on his lap, carefully unrolling the thick paper and skimming over the first of a long list of injuries since childhood, from the famous lightning bolt scar to the grapefruit sized ulcer Potter suffered from now.

From the looks of things he had been the focus of his relatives' irritations since his surprise arrival on their doorstep. There were broken limbs left unhealed and infections left untreated, in the matter of malnutrition there was only one bullet that read, "Patient may exhibit reduced height, weight, and resilience, due to a lack of nutrition in youth.".

Blaise frowned intensely at the paper, feeling Draco tensing beside him and recognizing the quickened breathing of his partner as the forewarning of an outburst. Blaise calmly rolled the parchment and set it on the side table, wrapping his arms around Draco who was, by now, shaking a bit from the effort of repressing tears.

"Blaise… that can't be right. His relatives… they… they… pampered him… he was…" Draco whispered brokenly, frustrated with the light his past actions fell under with this revelation. He was such a destructive brat in school and he had been picking on the only one in worse shape than himself.

Blaise sighed heavily, stroking Draco's back and feeling a bit bad for being so harsh on the boy in school as well, it couldn't have been healthy for him. "Draco, we were children, with our own external stressors, we dealt the best we could." Blaise muttered into the silky blond hair under his chin, resigning himself to a night spent consoling the emotional man in his arms which, considering his immense affection for Draco, didn't seem like such an awful fate.

Draco sniffled against the cotton of his partner's work scrubs for about an hour more, eventually falling asleep against the broad chest he leaned upon. Blaise chuckled a bit at Draco's sleeping face before running a finger over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. The moisture on his finger sobered him as he realized that he couldn't just want Potter for Draco's sake, if they planned to pursue Harry, he would have to mean it.

Standing and shifting to lift his petite partner in his arms, Blaise carried the sleeping man into their bedroom and set him in the bed before changing out of his work scrubs and into a pair of sleep pants. The soft sheets were a welcome thing against his tired body and he tugged Draco to his chest with an arm about his waist. He buried his nose into the blond locks atop the head of his pale lover and settled down to sleep.


	3. Interesting Nights

**Love them but don't own them. **

**Thanks so much for bearing with me while I diddle around and indulge my artsy tendencies. **

_The Age of Discontent__: Nosy Visitors_

Noise, the babble and hum of many people passing through a confined space. There were voices but they sounded a bit like rushing water, like he should know what they were saying but it wasn't sinking in just yet.

Harry struggled toward consciousness, both grateful for and resentful of the gentle edge of dreamless sleep afforded to him by the charmed soup. Harry had long since lost the foolish urge to trust everyone who offered him a band aid and had immediately sensed the more subdued magical resonance of a potion in his soup.

As emerald eyes cracked open a miniscule amount, light rushed to Harry's awareness and he fought the call of the drowsy feeling whispering for him to return to sleep and close his eyes. The more he opened his eyes, the less he liked what he saw. Judging from his fuzzy picture of things, he was in one of the hospital wing's long-term care units, equipped with a built on bathroom and a side table with two chairs.

Harry fumbled about for his glasses for a moment before realizing that it was silly of him to pretend when he was the only one around to see him hold out his hand and summon the glasses wordlessly. The desired frames flew to him out of a cupboard above the sink in the bathroom which was left propped open from the expulsion of the spectacles. Harry's eye caught a strangely familiar potion resting on the shelf and those intelligent green orbs narrowed unhappily.

A calming drought, no doubt to prevent any outbursts, little did Blaise know, however, that Harry hadn't the emotional capacity for that anymore. Gone were the explosions of temper he was famous for in his youth, he could hardly think about the time he had destroyed Albus' office without blushing in shame.

A small frown tugged the full lips down as Harry realized that all of the people he still thought about were dead. Albus, Sirius… This was the reason he didn't like to be idle for long, it brought out the worst in his personality.

Harry reached for the cane, lying innocently next to his bedside table, upset that Blaise had seen him need the cane so obviously. He felt like an old man despite only having aged to his early twenties. A twenty three year old shouldn't have to use a cane or be careful when he walked to avoid collapsing. The frown turned to a grimace.

The floors of the hospital wing were always chilly, it added to the sterile feel of the place, now that Mme. Pomfrey's flowers and silly prints were gone from the white walls. It wasn't the same.

Harry was struck with an unexplainable frustration that everyone was dead. He knew a grand total of four people in this new, strange, post-war world, and three of them he would rather never see again.

Setting his other foot on the floor, Harry transfigured his silly hospital gown into a pair of slacks and a respectable charcoal sweater and hobbled over to use the restroom, might as well make use of what was given. As he finished up in the restroom, he heard hushed voices straining from behind his door and immediately listened in, anxious for any news that might help him gain purchase on this alien world he seemed to be inhabiting.

"…can't let him…leg… ruin…want…" Came a strangled voice, too high pitched to be Blaise's sweetened baritone. There was an exasperated sigh and the voice cut off abruptly.

"… got to go… still an average patient… help…" Ah, now that was Blaise, Harry could practically feel the high strung first voice melt under that warm buttery tone.

There was a quick rattle before the door opened and he glimpsed the top of a blond head before the door closed behind the tanned Italian man. Harry watched the silver tongued man with calculating eyes, leaning in the door frame between the bathroom and the rest of the room. Blaise shot him a tired smile and motioned that he should sit on the bed. Harry took one of the plush armchairs instead, resting the dark wooden cane over his knees and waiting for the healer to speak.

"It's been busy today, you know, start of the new term, quidditch tryouts, that sort of thing." Blaise explained with an easy grin, pulling out a clipboard with a couple thick layers of parchment attached and snatching the pen from the pocket of his robes.

"Alright Mister Potter, are you feeling any nausea, abdominal pain, or unusual tingling since last night?" Blaise inquired brusquely, in full rhythm of the day and not willing to slow down for one dawdling patient.

"None at all, however, I did notice that I was dosed with dreamless sleep potion without my knowledge." The raven haired professor asserted calmly. The irritatingly slick grin on the healer's face slid gradually into a stern frown as he realized that the jig was up and he would have to tell the man something.

"Mister Potter, you should trust that healers have your welfare in mind while administering any remedy." Blaise chided gently, his eyes narrowed, gauging Harry's reaction before turning those sharp eyes back to the papers in his hand and beginning to scribble notes.

Harry gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, counting back from ten to calm down when he realized that Blaise was putting him off like a child. This was why he hated healers, they always thought that they knew what was best and were going to make you accept treatment even if you didn't want it. When he opened his eyes and let out the breath in a hissing sigh, Harry felt better and actually chuckled.

"Well, Healer Zabini, I would much prefer to know how I am going to be treated before the treatment is applied. Appease a paranoid veteran eh?" Harry asked good-naturedly. Blaise witnessed Harry's coping mechanism with a calculating, unflinching chocolate gaze and tucked that away for further revision as well.

"Well Mr. Potter, I'll certainly keep that in mind." He replied with the typical honey sweet voice he used on his patients. Harry simply smiled a tired smile and stood, cane in hand, to hobble out of the room with one wary eye trained on Blaise.

"Mr. Potter, I was under the impression that you would be accepting treatment under the condition that my methods were revealed to you before any action was taken." The healer imposed gently, not wanting to push the powerful wizard too far. The messy haired man simply paused and raised his eyebrow at the taller healer.

"I was under the impression that one did not need to be confined to the hospital wing to receive treatment." Harry shot back, defeating the purpose of the cutting comment with a good natured smile. "I prefer to take my meals in the great hall like everyone else." He continued before turning and removing himself from the hospital wing, uneven footsteps echoing back to the stunned Italian's ears.

Harry grinned to himself, he would have done his even tempered role model proud. The familiar walk to the Great Hall seemed longer than ever before, as he tapped his way along the stone floors to come, slightly panting, to the grand doors he most remembered from his first day at Hogwarts.

With more effort than it should have ever taken, Harry pushed open the scarred wooden doors and hobbled down to take his spot at the teacher's table, disregarding the raised eyebrows and alarmed expressions of his coworkers. After a moment of congratulating himself on escaping the oppressive young healer, Harry served himself a bowl of soup, sipping gingerly at the hot broth.

After only a few bites it became impossible for Harry to ignore the gaze attempting to bore a hole directly through the side of his head and he was forced, as if by an outside influence, to turn his eyes down the long table and discover the silver haired man who was shaking with rage.

Harry's eyebrows rose dramatically as he took in the other man's appearance, white faced, tight lipped, eyes narrowed in anger. He couldn't help but wonder for a moment what he had done wrong. He wasn't left long to mull over these thoughts as the other man snapped his gaze directly forward and slammed down his fork before standing to leave the great hall.

What was the meaning of this? Did the man have a physical aversion to his presence? As Harry watched Draco's retreating back, he could not answer any of the many questions racing around his head. Since his return to Hogwarts, everything had gone just as pear shaped as it always did when he was in school. He already had ruined the weak, unspoken truce between himself and the other teacher and he had no idea how Blaise would react to being dismissed by one of his patients.

With an unconcerned shrug, Harry resumed his soup and after a few more bites, found that he was full and could hold no more without an unfortunate reappearance of his food. Harry waited around and made conversation with the Headmistress, who seemed to want to assure herself that he was in good health until the students began trickling out the large doors.

Harry pushed the bowl, still half-full of soup away from the edge of the table and excused himself from the table, wanting to catch up on his lessons. As he grew further from the dull roar of the great hall, he grew nearer to a clipped and high strung conversation.

"I swear Draco, I did my best. You know how he is, won't cooperate for anything." Came a deep voice from around the corner, just outside the hospital wing. Harry stopped walking and shuffled over to the wall, not wanting to alert the arguers of his presence with his tapping cane.

"It's not good enough Blaise, you should have seen him, all pale like he is. That soup you've got him eating isn't nearly enough! I thought he was going to keel over in the middle of the great hall! Isn't there anything else?" Draco hissed angrily, shaking that silver mane over his shoulders to glare more effectively at his partner.

"I can't Draco, he needs to do this gradually or he'll never have a normal diet. Just trust me, this is my job." Blaise said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like pleading. Harry's eyebrows almost met his hairline. They were discussing him… his welfare… why? It didn't make any sense.

Filing that away for further inspection, he rustled about quite loudly with his cane and made a few large sighs to alert the two men of his presence before putting on his surprised face and greeting them with a perfectly neutral voice and expression.

"Healer Zabini, Professor Malfoy, fancy seeing you here. I'll just be getting back to my rooms then." Harry uttered quickly, not wanting to stick around after having rounded the corner and catching them in a telling embrace. He flushed, looking at the ground and limping by as quickly as he could.

"Professor Potter, I will have the house elves bring you your potions. You are to take them before bed every night." The taller man dictated, drawing the small blond closer to him.

Harry didn't answer, simply continued to hurry down the hall to the portrait that lead to the teacher's lounge and from there into his room. As he took a seat, he noted that his heart was racing in a manner that it hadn't for many years. Idly he wondered if he had a condition of some sort.

As he tried to calm his breathing Harry reached for his tried and true copy of Advanced Defensive Magic and looked over the notes from the sub. After his lesson on shield charms the sub had simply had them take notes about the different types of shield charms. Busy work, but sometimes busy work had to be done to augment the practical side of things. Harry closed his book, deciding to expand upon the topic further in class.

After a quick check of his watch, Harry reasoned that he could still fit in a nap before his next class. After heaving himself from the surprisingly difficult to leave chair Harry nuzzled his face into the pillow that retained the overly sterile scent that was left behind from magical cleaning, it was a scent that had comforted him since he was eleven years old. It smelled like the only home he had ever known.

Harry looked around in confusion, not understanding where he was or how he had gotten there, simply that he was feeling overwhelming pleasure, burning fire trails through his veins, just beneath his skin. The head of unruly black hair tossed back, mouth open in a nearly silent gasp as another wave of that liquid pleasure washed through him from his groin. When Harry looked down he almost recoiled, there was a head of white-blonde hair between his spread legs and gray eyes looking up at him with the most impossibly seductive expression that Harry had ever seen.

Just as Harry was about to speak he was surprised with strong hands on his shoulders, massaging the worried kinks away and encouraging him to relax and enjoy the attention that was so very lovingly being showered on him. Harry glanced up to find, unsurprisingly at this point that Blaise was the one smiling unguardedly at him in a way that he had never seen in all the time that they had known each other.

Harry was immediately distracted by the things Draco was doing with that wonderful tongue and his hand made its way to the baby soft locks. The pace was rapidly speeding up and Blaise had transitioned from massage to light teasing touches, pinching his nipples gently and helping to bring Harry to that delicious precipice. His entire body began to tense with release when Harry noticed that his leg was intact… meaning this entire sinfully wonderful experience was not…

Harry awoke in time to thrust twice and release all over the inside of his work trousers. As he lay there, panting and trying to reign in his reeling mind he realized with a crippling shame that he had just fantasized not only about a man but a committed man and his partner at the same time. It was enough to make shameful tears well up in those expressive emerald eyes and if anyone had been there to see, it would have been heart-breaking.


End file.
